


All Roads Lead Home

by SageMcMae



Series: Sage's Oneshots [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben is a Scrooge, Christmas Cocktails, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Devoted Reylo, Dream Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Love at First Sight, Meddling Mother, Mistletoe and Mischief, Mutual Pining, Rey changes that, Reylo - Freeform, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, actual sex, holiday romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-24 04:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17093738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SageMcMae/pseuds/SageMcMae
Summary: “What?” she asked, catching him staring.“Nothing…you’re just…,” he trailed off, not wanting to sound any more pathetic than he already had.“I’m just what?” she prompted.“You’re nothing like any of the girls back in LA,” he admitted.“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” she queried, leaning in towards him.“Good thing,” he smiled.She knocked her shoulder into him playfully. “Good,” she beamed. “‘Cause I kinda like you, Scrooge.”





	All Roads Lead Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GreyForceUser (ReyandKyloforever)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReyandKyloforever/gifts).



> Just some Christmas shenanigans for my dear friend, [@GreyForceUser](https://greyforceuser.tumblr.com/), who deserves some fluff and smut right now!
> 
> Thank to the always awesome [@reysexualkylo](http://reysexualkylo.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing!

_At Christmas, all roads lead home._ \- Marjorie Holmes

 

Snowflakes drifted down from the starless night sky, gliding slowly down cover the streets and sidewalks of Boston. In true New England fashion, the outskirts of the city looked like something out of a charming holiday commercial instead of the hustling-bustling metropolis it actually was.

 

Ben Solo shrugged his shoulders upwards, digging his chin deeper into his cashmere scarf. The deep crimson color made him appear to be festive when in actuality, it was the only scarf he owned. He didn’t need more than one since he lived year-round in LA.

 

He trudged through the sidewalks, only recently salted, inwardly groaning as he made a mental note to clean off his pair of Testoni when he arrived at his final destination. Behind him, he rolled along his carryon case, the small black wheels kicking up the freshly landed snow. At his side, his satchel bounced from where it hung on his shoulder strap. He barely felt it as a chilly breeze tore through his thick wool coat.

 

Northeastern winters were only one of the reasons why he’d moved nearly three thousand miles away from his childhood home.

 

Another was his actual childhood.

 

In true Solo fashion, his father hadn’t shown up at the airport. Han claimed he got stuck at work... _again_...which was code for playing poker and drinking whiskey at Lando’s behind Leia’s back. Ben ordered an Uber, taking the ride to his old neighborhood, but not his parents’ house. No, if he was going to deal with his family all weekend, he needed a stiff drink.

 

_Maybe two._

 

He’d gotten out at Spruce Street, tipping the driver through his app and before tucking his phone inside his coat. Then he’d made this trek down the narrow alley towards the tavern where he’d spent many long nights as a younger man. Even from outside, he could hear the noise of the ancient speakers playing classic rock. Some things never changed.

 

The familiar sign for Maz’s came into view and he threw the thick wooden door open, stepping inside. There were more patrons around the tavern than he’d been expecting for this hour on Christmas Eve, still Ben managed to snag a seat at the counter, his back to the rest of the bar. He set his bags down, propping them up between the wall and his barstool.

 

A young man came over to his corner, hands busy drying a pint glass. “Evening, sir. What can I get you?”

 

“Bourbon, neat,” Ben ordered, surprised to hear a slight difference in the other man’s accent. It was British, if he wasn’t mistaken. While the distinct pronunciation was similar, the Bostonians tended to have a harsher sound to their vowels.

 

“Any preference?”

 

“Four Roses.”

 

“Right away,” the bartender responded, setting the clean glass under the bar and heading off.

 

Ben retrieved his cell from his inner coat pocket, cringing when he noticed he’d missed a call from his boss, Anthony Snoke.

 

He’d been an employee of First Order Industries since he graduated from Harvard Law. At first, he served as a legal liaison but now he was the organization’s General Counsel. His six figure salary, penthouse in  downtown and company car were all perks of the eighty-hour work weeks he kept.

 

“Four Roses, neat,” the bartender returned, sliding a glass of the amber liquid across the counter. “If you need anything else, I’m Finn.”

 

“Thank you,” Ben replied, shifting to get his wallet. He pulled out a crisp one hundred and told the kid to keep the change.

 

“Merry Christmas, sir,” Finn beamed at him as he retreated with the generous tip.

 

Ben rolled his eyes, his actions once again being mistaken for holiday spirit. He raised his glass and took a long sip of his drink. The liquor burned going down, a satisfying warmth settling in him after the bitter march from the car to the tavern.

 

The weather wasn’t as bitter as the abandonment Ben felt at the hands of his father, but what else was new? Han Solo had always been a disappointment.

 

When Ben was ten, he’d entered a writing contest, hoping to be one out of thousands who got their story selected. He’d taken it to his father to mail, secretly hoping Han would read it and praise him for his creativity. But all his father had done was stick the papers into a padded envelope and drop them off at the post office on his way into his garage.

 

A month later, Ben received a response that his envelope hadn’t been received by the deadline. When he complained about it over dinner, Han told him to forget about any literary aspirations he had and get a real job. Ben gave up his dream of writing right then and there.

 

The unpleasant memories of growing up were somehow fiercer here in Boston. In LA, he could bury himself in his work, keeping his nose down in the office until the west coast sun set and he could return to his apartment for take-out and a bottle of whatever liquor was stocked by his housekeeper. Despite being on the sunny West Coast, he rarely went outside in the sunlight, hence his pale complexion. His schedule was far too full for him to waste his time outside. He had a system — a system which the holiday had thrown severely out of whack.

 

The holiday and Han Solo.

 

His mother had finally convinced Han to retire. She’d asked Ben to come home to go over the legal paperwork for transferring Han’s business — Millennium Garage — over to his protege. Ben had heard the guy’s name for years. All his father ever talked about was ‘Ray this’ and ‘Ray that’. He was more involved in his employee’s life than he was in his own son’s. Ben had never hated anyone as much as he hated this Ray-guy.

 

Due to his father’s transition, Ben had to request off. He glanced down at the angry red notification on his phone, a reminder of how he’d disobeyed his superior. Anthony Snoke had no family and held no compassion for those who did. When Ben asked to take a week’s worth of vacation — the first ever in his tenure — his boss asked him if he knew what he was doing.

 

It wasn’t so much the question itself, as it was the way Mr. Snoke asked it that got under Ben’s skin. For a split second he had the image of a noose tightening around his neck. He brushed the thought away. Mr. Snoke had given him everything — his job, his home, his purpose. Just because the man demanded excellence didn’t make him evil. It just made him committed.

 

At least that’s what Ben told himself, as he took another sip.

 

“Hey! You can’t be behind the bar, Peanut!”

 

Ben’s head snapped up as he took in the sight of a slim woman with chestnut hair twirling a bottle of Kettle One in her hand. Finn came stomping out of the backroom, arms loaded with cases of cheap beer for the late night crowd.

 

The girl he was addressing stuck her tongue out at him, blatantly ignoring his reprimand. She flipped the bottle before catching it behind her back and placing it gently down under the bar. Then she added cranberry juice, pomegranate purée, orange liquor, and shook up the contents, while a group in the corner cheered loudly.

 

Her smile was dazzling as she set up martini glasses in a line on the bar top. She ran a lime along the curved edges of each glass before dipping rolling them in sugar. Then without spilling a drop, she filled each one, ending the Christmas cocktail with a spritz of fresh lime.

 

Whoops and hollers filled the air from the collection which Ben assumed were her friends. Finn could only roll his eyes and continue with restocking. Ben thought he heard the bartender mutter, “Show off,” but between all he racket, he couldn’t be sure.

 

The girl arranged the glasses on a tray, decorated with tinsel. The whole thing looked like it could have been a picture out of an ad. Every element was perfect, but none as perfect as the girl herself.

 

Which was why he was shocked when she came his way.

 

“This one’s for you, big guy,” she winked, setting one of the glasses down in front of him.

 

Ben stared at the scarlet cocktail in front of him, dumbstruck. When he raised his eyes to the girl, she was already gone. He followed her retreating back to the booth in the back. She handed out the round to her chattering friends, smiling so wide he saw dimples appear on her freckled cheeks.

 

When he’d entered the bar, Ben had only swept through the establishment with a fleeting glance. He hadn’t noticed her amongst the group of boisterous twenty-somethings in the corner. But now...now he was openly staring at her.

 

She was dressed in a sheer red top, nearly the same color as the drinks she’d made, skinny jeans and ankle boots. Her hair was pinned up, a couple rogue tresses falling down along the sides, framing her face. Her hazel eyes were sparking with merriment and she smiled with all her perfectly white teeth.

 

Ben felt a pull to her, as if she was a beacon of light and he was the helpless fly who couldn’t help but be drawn to her.

 

“Who is that?” Ben asked Finn.

 

The dark-skinned man followed Ben’s line of vision and snorted. “That’s the other bartender. She just landed a full time job so she and her crew are celebrating,” he explained. “If they’re bothering you, I can go ask them to tone it down.”

 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Ben waved him off distractedly. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off of the girl. 

 

“She’s pretty but she’s off-limits, understand,” Finn added and the tone of his voice made Ben turn back around on the barstool. 

 

“Is she your girlfriend?” he questioned, unconsciously clenching his jaw.

 

“No,” Finn scoffed. “She’s my sister.” Ben glanced at the girl, then back at the man behind the counter. “Foster care,” Finn stated. Ben let out the breath he’d been holding. “But just because we don’t share any blood doesn’t mean I wouldn’t take a bullet for her. She’s all the family I have,” the bartender finished. 

 

“I just wondered what she was doing behind the bar,” Ben responded. He winced at his own blatant lie. He was a lawyer for God’s sake. He knew how to tell a fib. 

 

“Uh huh,” Finn drawled, his body language saying he didn’t believe Ben. He gave him a pointed look and then walked away to serve another patron. 

 

Ben sat alone staring at the delicate stemmed glass in front of him. It stood next to his half-empty rocks glass completely out of place. 

 

 _Just like me_ , he thought sullenly. While everyone else inside the establishment was singing drunken carols, discussing their plans for the holiday and basically enjoying Christmas Eve in general, Ben was isolated in his corner, dark and broody like the Ghost of Christmas Yet-to-Come. 

 

His office neighbor Hux often remarked on how bad his temper was, but Ben had never allowed the redhead’s comments to bother him. 

 

Until now.

 

With a sigh he downed the remainder of his bourbon and slid back on his barstool to stand up. 

 

“Leaving already?”

 

He spun around so fast he was sure he gave himself whiplash. 

 

It was her. 

 

“Uh...”

 

“Not a fan of sweets, huh?” she gestured to his untouched martini. 

 

“I-.”

 

“Bet I could change your mind,” she smiled, not giving him time to respond before she was back behind the counter of the bar and digging around for a clean set of tools.

 

Ben sat back down in his seat, dumbfounded. What did a pretty girl like her want with a Grinch like him? She obviously had plenty of friends to give her attention to so why was she all the way over here with him, mixing up another concoction? 

 

“Try this,” she slid a fresh rocks glass over to him. It had a sprig of cinnamon on the top. He eyed it warily. “It’s not going to bite you,” the girl laughed, leaning forward on her elbows, waiting expectantly. 

 

Removing the cinnamon stick, Ben lifted the glass to his lips. He smelled orange and cherries with a hint of cardamom. Intrigued, he took a sip. 

 

“Well?”

 

“It’s good,” he replied.

 

“He speaks,” she smirked. 

 

Ben considered mentioning the fact she’d either walked away or interrupted him every time before, but the girl was already making her way around the side of the bar to sit in the empty seat next to him. 

 

“So where are you from?” she asked.

 

“How do you know I’m not local?” Her lips twisted in a bemused grin as she nodded toward where his bags were still sitting. “LA,” he informed her. “How about you? That’s not a Boston accent, I hear.”

 

“British. Westminster,” she clarified. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

 

He jolted, unsure of how to respond.

 

“My brother said you asked about me,” she offered. 

 

She didn’t hold back. Ben had to give her credit for that. In his profession he encountered more liars and con artists than the average person. He tended to be a skeptic. It was refreshing to find someone so open and honest. At least he new where he stood with her...at least, he thought he did. 

 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “You’re a good bartender. You could work in LA.”

 

Her nose scrunched up and she immediately started shaking her head. “I couldn’t move all the way out there.”

 

“Why not?” Ben asked before he could stop himself. “I bet the tips are better.”

 

“My family is here. My friends are here. They’re my life. I couldn’t just leave them,” she told him, as if it was the most obvious answer.

 

He felt a pang in his chest. Her and her foster brother weren’t even related by blood and their bond was deeper than the one forged between him and his parents. Glancing over at the corner booth where all her friends were gathered together, still chatting away, he noticed each of them kept peering over at him, as if assessing him. These strangers, who she formed attachments to, were obviously very important to her and she was important to them. Ben realized, like Finn, these people were her family. Back in at the First Order, he felt like most people would trade in their grandmother if it meant a raise. He wished he had someone who was as fiercely loyal as this girl.

 

“Besides,” she continued, “there’s no snow in LA.”

 

Ben chuckled again. “You’ve got a point there.” He took another sip of his Winter Spiced Old Fashion.

 

“Is that why you’re here?” she questioned. “To see the snow?”

 

“I’m here for my parents, actually,” he admitted. “They asked me to come home this year.”

 

“Awww, how nice,” she smiled over at him, helping herself to his forgotten sugar-rimmed martini.

 

“Not exactly,” Ben grumbled. He heard her suck in a breath and her eyes widened, as if he’d just told her there was no such thing as Santa Clause. “I haven’t been home in over seven years. My father and I had a falling out and we don’t really talk anymore. The only reason they asked me to make the trip this year is because they want me to do some paperwork. After that, I’m back to being the black sheep of the family and they’ll forget all about me again.”

 

She reached over, placing her hand over his. “I’m sorry. That’s awful. That certainly isn’t the way to spread the holiday spirit.”

 

Ben scoffed. “Holiday spirit! There’s no such thing. It’s only a marketing ploy to entice consumers to buy more junk at the end of the year, so businesses can make their quota. I should know. I work for one of them.”

 

“Oh yeah, Scrooge,” she raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t move her hand. “And which heartless corporation did you sell your soul to?”

 

“First Order Industries.”

 

“No!” she cried loud enough to cause nearly every eye in the bar to look their way. She didn’t notice. “I was right,” she went on, shaking her head and laughing. “You are a Christmas scrooge.”

 

He felt himself getting red and was thankful his ears were hidden under his long black hair because they were burning with his embarrassment. The only reason he had stopped in here instead of another neighborhood watering hole was because he knew Maz would be at his parents’ house for the holiday. Each time he saw the elderly woman, she humiliated him. Apparently in her absence, this girl was going to do the honors. As she continued to laugh, the other patrons went back to their own business but Ben remained flushed.

 

Despite feeling awkward, he couldn’t be mad at the girl. She was too easy to like, naturally jolly and hopeful as if she was made from Christmas spirit.

 

“What?” she asked, catching him staring.

 

“Nothing…you’re just…,” he trailed off, not wanting to sound any more pathetic than he already had.

 

“I’m just what?” she prompted.

 

“You’re nothing like any of the girls back in LA,” he admitted.

 

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” she queried, leaning in towards him.

 

“Good thing,” he smiled.

 

She knocked her shoulder into him playfully. “Good,” she beamed. “‘Cause I kinda like you, Scrooge.”

 

Ben lost track of time after that. He and the girl talked about everything from their favorite places in Boston to how well the Red Sox had done this past season. He told her he was still a fan, even if he was an LA native now and she’d called him a bandwagon jumper since the Sox were the current World Series champs. Ben shared with her his love of reading and divulged his secret hobby — calligraphy. In return, she told him about her skills with machinery and how she’d always dreamed of going to college to be a mechanical engineer, but it hadn’t been in the cards for her.

 

“One day,” she grinned, ever the optimist.

 

“One day,” Ben nodded in agreement, but he wasn’t talking about her collegiate dreams anymore. She’d gotten him thinking about his passion for writing, a passion which had been long since dormant…like his heart.

 

What was she doing to him?

 

To even the playing field from earlier, she shared some embarrassing quirks of hers — she liked to sing in the shower, she never sorted her clothes while doing laundry, and drank out of the milk container. Ben laughed, finding not a single thing that she told him at all repulsive. If anything it only endeared her more to him.

 

They talked about everything and nothing.

 

It wasn’t until Finn came by to tell them last call was over twenty minutes ago and he was closing up that Ben realized how late — or early — it was.

 

His phone lit up displaying the time. 2:23am. Aside of him, the girl let out a wide yawn, turning away as her freckled cheeks reddened when she saw he was watching her. With the time difference, he wasn’t feeling it, but he could tell she was.

 

“Come on, Peanut,” Finn called to the girl. “Time to go.”

 

Hesitantly, she got off the stool, gathering up the used glassware to help her brother finish cleaning up.

 

Ben jumped to his feet. He trailed behind her like a lost puppy. He didn’t care how ridiculous he looked. All he knew was that he couldn’t let her disappear on him. “Do you have to go? I could get us an Uber and-.”

 

“We live together,” Finn interjected, glaring at Ben. Then to his sister, he said, “You don’t want to be a mess for tomorrow, do you? Big day for you.”

 

She sighed. “You’re right.” Slowly, she turned to Ben. “I’m sorry. I have this really important dinner tomorrow with my boss and his family.”

 

The girl began putting the barstools and chairs up, clearing the floor for Finn to clean. Ben continued to follow his sister around. “I could give you my number. I’ll be in town all week. Maybe we could-.”

 

Stopping short, she pivoted around and crossed her arms over her chest. He jerked to a halt so he didn’t run her over. “Are you going back to LA at the end of the week?”

 

“Y-yes,” he stammered.

 

“Do you have plans to visit Boston after this week?”

 

“N-no,” he stuttered, unsure where she was going with this new line of questioning.

 

The expression on her face was heartbreaking. The smile she’d worn all night faded away and he saw disappointment mar her features.

 

Ben’s brain scrambled as he tried to come up with something — anything — to keep her from shutting him down. “I have time. I never take vacation, so I have a lot of days saved up. I could fly in for a long weekend and we could go to Harpoon for a pint and then to dinner.”

 

Her eyes misted. “That’s not enough, not for me. I’m sorry.”

 

She rushed through the rest of her clean-up tasks, hiding in the backroom as soon as she was done, while Ben stood stock still, desperately trying to conjure up some kind of plan where he could have it all — his job in LA, his penthouse, and the girl. A transcontinental love affair didn’t appear to be in the cards for him.

 

“Closing time, sir,” Finn sounded as tired as Ben felt, as he directed him out the front door.

 

Ben walked sluggishly out the door, dejected and despondent. Finn came out behind him and finally the girl, who had her head down, not looking at either of them. Finn glanced between the two and sighed. “I’m gonna go pull the car around, Peanut. Why don’t you wait here? I’ll be right around to pick you up, ok?”

 

“Ok,” she mumbled, kicking the snow with the toe of her boots.

 

Finn stomped down the alley, leaving Ben alone with his sister, who remained huddled under the tavern’s doorway. Ben chanced a look at her, finding her peeking out from under her eyelashes at him.

 

“It’s not that I don’t like you,” she began. “I do. I just can’t get involved-.”

 

“Mistletoe.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Mistletoe,” Ben pointed to the festive decoration hung over the center of the doorway. He’d never been a believer but suddenly he was thankful for the holiday and those who cherished the spirit of Christmas.

 

Her cheeks went as red as the shirt underneath her heavy winter jacket. Ben took a step towards her. “It’s tradition,” he noted.

 

She nodded, her bottom lip caught between those perfect pearly whites. He wondered if she’d feel as soft as she looked. She probably tasted like the sugar she’d decorated her cocktails with.

 

“What do you say?” he asked. “One kiss for good luck? A Christmas wish?”

 

She nodded again and then Ben was wrapping his arms around her, drawing her to him. When his lips touched hers, he felt a spark pass through him. It wasn’t a static shock due to electrons jumping, though he was stunned into silence by the sensation. No, this was something else — something magical.

 

He pulled her flush against him, lifting her slightly so she was standing on his now destroyed Testoni. The girl wound her hands in his hair, directing his head slightly to the side so she could angle against him better. When her tongue ran across the seam of his mouth, Ben let out a moan.

 

A car horn honked at the end of the alley.

 

The girl leapt from his arms, eyes wide and face flushed.

 

“My name is Ben,” he blurted out. “Ben Solo.” He saw something flicker in her eyes and for a moment her smile fell away. “What’s your-.”

 

Before he could get his question out, she was on her tiptoes, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Happy Christmas, Ben,” she breathed against his lips, her eyes locked on his. “We’ll see each other again. I believe that.”

 

With that, she sauntered off in the direction of her brother. Just as she turned the corner, she glanced over her shoulder at him. Ben saw her smile and then she was gone.

 

He was still staring at the spot where she’d duck out of sight when his cell began going off. After the third round of ringing, he picked up. “What?” he snapped.

 

“Benjamin Organa Amidala Solo! Do you have any idea what time of night it is?”

 

Wincing, he held the phone away from his ear, as she ranted away. After a few moment, she paused long enough for him to answer her. “Sorry, Mom. I lost track of the time. I’m on my way now.”

 

* * *

 

_“Harder, harder,” her breathless cries spurred him on as he rocked into her._

 

_“You feel so good, so good around me,” he babbled, thrusting faster as he felt the familiar clench in his abdomen._

 

_“Ben, please. So close.”_

 

_“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he promised, bringing his hand down to where she needed him the most. One rotation over her bundle of nerves and she was careening over the edge. Her inner walls clamped down on him, milking him of his release._

 

_He fell forward, caging her in with his body as they both drifted in and out of their blissful post-orgasmic haze._

 

_“Mmmm, Ben,” she nuzzled her face into his neck, pressing feather-light kissed against his pulse point. “Ben, Ben, Ben.”_

 

“Ben. Wake up, Ben,” a voice which was decidedly not his nameless mystery girl’s broke him out of his dreamscape. As did the kick which followed.

 

“Errr...what?” he groaned, slapping a hand over his face to shield his eyes from the bright light shining down on him. 

 

“Your mother wants you showered, dressed and downstairs before everyone starts arriving,” Han Solo’s gruff no-nonsense tone was enough to make Ben groan again. Maybe he’d crack open a bottle of bourbon before dinner, just to ease his heartbreak. 

 

“Give me five minutes,” he muttered. 

  
He heard his father exit, mumbling something about ‘ungrateful kid’ under his breath as he went. Ben wanted to snap back at him, but thought better of it when he saw how late in the day it was. 

 

It was almost two in the afternoon. Had he really slept that long? He sat up, running a hand through his raven locks as he retraced his steps from the night prior. 

 

Sleep hadn’t found him easily. He’d gone over and over his night at Maz’s, commuting each detail to memory. The female bartender with the chestnut hair and dazzling smile was who he’d seen in his dreams and it was her soft voice which had lulled him to sleep in the early morning light hours prior. 

 

He didn’t remember when exactly he’d fallen asleep, only that he’d fought against it, afraid he’d wake up back in LA to find the entire evening had been a fantasy brought on by too much bourbon. 

 

But he woke up refreshed, having gotten the best rest he’d experienced in recent memory and without a single sign of a hangover. 

 

Ben could hear the sounds of pots and pans clattering around in the kitchen below. Suddenly his father’s pissed off mood made sense. His mother was attempting to cook. 

 

Every year Leia Organa strove to be the ‘hostess with the mostest,’ despite the fact that every year she ended up burning one or more dishes. It was a good thing her twin brother, his uncle Luke Skywalker, was such a good chef. While Leia was historically the one to get both Luke and Han out of trouble, they were the ones who saved her year after year in the kitchen. 

 

Each rescue came with the same three steps. First, the overabundance of praise for her non-existence culinary talent, immediately followed by uncorking a large bottle of red, and ending with the suggestion that she worked too hard and she deserved to sit back while they waited on her for a change. It worked like clockwork every year since as long as Ben could remember. 

 

However, given the collection of bangs and curses from below, he ventured a guess his uncle hadn’t arrived to assist Han yet. 

 

Which meant now was the perfect time for a shower. 

* * *

 

He managed to stay hidden upstairs and out of his parents’ way until he heard the doorbell ring. 

 

“Ben!” His father hollered up to the second floor. “Get the door!”

 

With a huff, he rose from his old high school desk where he’d been Googling reviews of Maz’s tavern. He was hoping to get a picture of his mystery girl to show his godmother once she arrived with her famous pecan pie. He needs her name and — if Maz was in a giving mood — her number. He couldn’t just fly back to LA without knowing her name. He had to find her. 

 

“Ben!” 

 

“Coming!” he screamed back at his father as he descended the steps. 

 

He took them two at a time, rushing down towards the front door. Ben suspected it was his uncle, the perpetual bachelor, but he was hoping it was Maz and Chewie so he could grill the tavern owner for details. 

 

Swinging the door open, he came face to face with the striking blue eyes of Luke Skywalker. 

 

“Ben,” his uncle smirked, clearly amused to find him at the Solo house. “Didn’t know you could make it this year.”

 

“I was summoned,” Ben replied tersely. 

 

“As we all are,” Luke nodded knowingly. “Your mother isn’t someone you takes ‘no’ for an answer.”

 

“No, she’s not,” Ben agreed, moving aside to let his uncle in. He shut the door. “Luke’a here,” he called back to the kitchen. 

 

“Thank, God,” he heard his father mutter, followed by the sound of a smack and another curse. “Help me out here, kid.”

 

No matter how old they got, Han continued to refer to Luke as ‘kid’, even after Ben had been born. His parents and his uncle had an unbreakable bond, wholly unlike his relationship with them. 

 

Luke retreated into the kitchen, leaving Ben to hang his coat and scarf in the hall closet. Just as he finished another knock sounded. 

 

“Amilyn,” he welcomed his purple-haired sporting aunt into the house. 

 

“Ben,” she enveloped him in a hug, filling his nostrils with the scent of lavender. Was her hair scented too? “I brought a backup,” Amilyn grinned, proudly displaying an extra bottle of red. 

 

“They’re in the kitchen,” Ben waved her back, transitioning her outerwear to the closet. 

 

More of his parents’ friends trickled in and the chatter in the kitchen while Ben remained in the foyer going back and forth between the front door and the closet. 

 

Maz and Chewie arrived fashionably late, ten minutes after three, at which point his mother and Amilyn had retired to the living room. They sat gossiping away while others slowly meandered around and his father and uncle finished dinner. 

 

“Good to see you, my boy,” Maz forced him to lean down so she could pat his cheeks the same way she’d done when he was a child. “You look thin. Don’t they feed you in LA?”

 

Chewie grumbled something inaudible under his breath before crushing Ben in a bear hug and then silently stalking off into the kitchen. 

 

“Maz,” Ben started. “I went to the tavern last night and I was wondering about your-.”

 

“Chewie!”

 

Ben froze. He’d heard that voice before. 

 

In hindsight, he should have noticed the signs sooner. The tray of Christmas Cosmos in the living room was not his mother’s typical beverage of choice. The familiar ankle boots which had somehow made it up to the foyer without his knowledge. The crisp English accent wafting through the hall. Ben had been so focused on finding out her name from Maz, he missed what was right in front of him the entire time. 

 

Maz released his face, strolling into the living room to join Leia just as Han came down the hallway with a young brunette on his arm. 

 

“Ben, this is Rey,” his father introduced his mystery girl. “She’s the one I told you about. She’s taking over Millennium.”

 

He’d been hating that ‘Ray-guy’ for years, convinced his father’s protege had stolen Han from him. The joke was on him, apparently, because Rey was not a guy and she’d stolen more than his father’s approval from him. She’d stolen Ben’s heart. 

“Hi, I’m Rey,” she offered her hand to him, as if she hadn’t just left him reeling less than twelve hours prior. 

“Ben,” he shook her hand.

 

She was dressed differently from the night before, more casual in her cream sweater and black leggings and she’d let her hair down. There was a wide plaid scarf wrapped around her neck which brought out the green in her eyes. She looked beautiful.

 

“Han,” Leia called from the living room. “I need you!”

 

His father shook his head. “I’m in the middle of something, Princess.”

 

“Now!”

 

Han unlooped his arm from Rey’s and walked off, grumbling in annoyance. 

 

Once they were alone in the corridor, Ben stepped closer, still holding onto Rey’s hand. “You knew,” he surmised, searching her face. “You knew who I was. Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

Rey’s cheeks darkened, but she didn’t back away or try to remove her hand from his grip. “I didn’t know,” she claimed. “Not until you told me your name.”

 

He didn’t need to replay their kiss under the mistletoe. He’d gone over it in detail more times than he could count since she’d left him standing there. “And you kissed me back.”

 

She nodded. Gazing up at him, she began to chew on her lip, a nervous habit of hers. “Are you mad?” 

 

Was he mad? He’d only spent every second since she’d disappeared thinking of a way to find her. And now here she was, standing right in front of him close enough for him to-

 

“Alright everyone,” Leia projected through the house. “Dinner time. Come and get it.”

 

Rey jumped at the command, her hand pulling free from his as she turned in the direction of the voice. Ben lamented the loss instantly, his eyes only on her. 

 

When she turned back to him, Rey cleared her throat. “I guess we should-.”

 

“I’m not mad,” he rushed out. “I-I’ve been thinking of you.”

 

Her eyes widened. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_ , he chastised himself for how eager he’d sounded. His brain told him he was being unreasonable. 

 

“Y-you have?” she asked in disbelief. 

 

He told reason to take a hike. “Rey, I-.”

 

“There you two are!” his mother exclaimed as she came around the corner. “Are you joining us or are you going to eat Christmas dinner in the hallway?”

 

Wordlessly they shuffled into the dining room, taking the last two seats, which Ben noted were thankfully next to one another. He pulled out a chair for Rey, biting back a smile when he saw her face redden again. As he sat down aside of her, he ignored his parents’ open-mouthed stare. 

 

“Let’s eat!” Maz cheered. 

 

Everyone started digging in, commenting on the place settings and the meal ‘Leia’ had prepared. While the guests were all busy with filling their plates, Ben inclined his head toward Rey. 

 

“We’re not done yet.”

 

His blood heated at the sight of her lips parting from his words. Unbidden the vision of her writhing beneath him from his dreams entered his mind and suddenly his hunger for turkey turned into hunger for something more carnal. 

 

As if she could read his mind, Rey’s cheeks remained scarlet, even as Amilyn passed her a bowl of mashed potatoes. On Ben’s right, his father nudged him, alerting him to fact he was also trying to pass a dish over. 

 

Once everyone had a plate full of food, the chatter died down a bit. Ben picked at his meal, unconcerned with appearances. He just wanted dinner to be finished so he could continue his discussion with Rey. 

 

So when Han broke into an extensive tale from his youth, Ben barely managed to hold back a groan. 

 

A small hand landed on his knee, the gesture hidden beneath the table. Ben glanced sideways at Rey, but she remained composed, eating her food as if she wasn’t touching him in front of his entire family. Following her lead, he slid his left hand down  until he was able to interlace his fingers with hers. She graced him with a smile and Ben drowned out his father’s voice, content to smile back at her. 

 

It felt right, holding her hand. There was a natural simplicity to it, one which gave him comfort and a feeling of security. Just like it had been easy to spend his evening talking to Rey at the tavern, Ben found it effortless to hold onto her. It was as if they had always been meant for this, two pieces of a puzzle finally slotting together.

 

As dinner winded down, neither of them let go. Ben kept stealing side glances at Rey, hoping to catch her eyes again, when the guests began standing up one by one.

 

“Nice work, Leia,” Maz commended their host. 

 

“The boys helped,” Leia grinned at Han and then at her twin. 

 

“Let me help you with the dishes,” Maz offered, already collection plates. 

 

“I’ll help too,” Amilyn joined in, tearing both Ben and Rey’s plates away by inserting herself between them. Ben caught her eyes going south to where they were still holding hands. A knowing grin appeared on her face as she straightened up, which his mother caught.

 

“Ben, why don’t you and Rey go into the study?” Leia suggested. He quirked a brow at her, wondering what she was playing at. “You two can get started on the paperwork.”

 

 _Right_ ...the reason they were both here was for business. An ugly feeling twisted in his gut as he remembered the unheard voicemail still lurking on his phone from Mr. Snoke. He pushed the dark thought away, not wanting to taint his time with Rey. They had lots of _business_ to discuss.

 

 

“Shall we?” he asked, standing up.

 

“Sure,” Rey stood up, making sure to push her chair carefully back in place before exiting the dining room.

 

Placing his hand on the small of her back, he guided Rey away from his family and towards the study at the back of the house.

 

No sooner had he closed the door than he was on her. His hands fell to her waist, holding her still so he could press his lips to hers.

 

“Wait, wait,” she pushed back on his chest. “We can’t.”

 

“Why?” he whined against her.

 

“Because you’re leaving and I can’t….I can’t be abandoned again.”

 

"Again?" 

 

"I...," she trailed off taking a deep breath. "The reason I was in foster care with Finn was my parents abandoned me when I was about four or five. I don't even know if Rey is my real name," she admitted. "It's the only name I could remember when the police found me." 

 

The way she spoke of her past broke something within him. Ben stepped back, releasing her. Rey looked smaller than ever before, diminished somewhat by her fear of rejection. She wore a look which was familiar to him. He’d seen that look countless times before on his own face. He knew what it was like to be left alone.

 

He couldn’t do that to her. Not _his_ girl. In that moment he realized that was what she was to him. The way he felt about Rey wasn't like how he felt about his family or his friends or anyone he'd ever known. He was overwhelmed by his need to know her, to take care of her and to feel her skin against his. It was like he had tunnel vision and all he could see was her, but in a strange way, he felt more at peace this way than he'd ever felt before. 

 

“Look, I wasn’t lying when I said I had a lot of time off. I’ll call in and tell them I need to take off for family reasons and we can see where this goes.” Rey bit her lip, clearly running through things in her head. “I can’t go back to LA without knowing what could have been,” Ben pleaded.

 

“I don’t want you to go back to LA at all,” she admitted, her voice cracking.

 

Ben tucked an errant strand behind her ear. He started to speak when he saw the tears running down her cheek.

 

“I’m sorry,” Rey gave a watery laugh as she tried to remove evidence of her crying. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. We just met but I…” her voice broke off, her shoulders shaking as she held back a sob.

 

“Hey, hey,” he tilted her face up and slid the pads of his thumbs across her cheekbones, wiping away her tears. “Don’t cry, sweetheart,” he kissed the drying trail up her cheek. When he reached her eyelids, he pulled back, staring down at her. “Don’t be afraid. I feel it too.”

 

“Are we crazy?” she breathed, leaning towards him.

 

“Probably,” he chuckled.

 

Rey gazed at him for a moment, her expression unreadable before she laughed along with him. “I’ve never been a believer, but I think I am now,” she told him.

 

Ben didn’t need to ask what she meant. He already knew. “You made me a believer,” he replied.

 

“It’s a Christmas miracle, Scrooge,” she teased, poking his side.

 

“What will be a Christmas miracle is if I can cash in all my PTO at once,” he sighed, fishing his phone out. "I have a call to make." 

 

He heard ringing on the other end when Rey's hand came over top of his. "Maybe we could see where things go now before you make the call," she suggested. 

 

Ben had never hung up so quickly in his life. He ended the call before he heard his employer's voice on the line. 

 

* * *

 

 

Convincing his mother that Rey wasn't feeling well was suspiciously easy. Ben planned on circling back with her when he came back home...if he came back. The idea of spending his holiday entirely naked in Rey's apartment was starting to sound like the best vacation he'd ever taken and he hadn't even seen it yet. But that was about to be remedied. 

 

Rey unlocked her front door leading him into unit BB-8. It was a modest place, clearly only meant for one person, even though he knew her brother lived here also. Which caused him to ask, "Eh...your brother isn't home, is he?" 

 

"No," she smiled up at him. "He's with his boyfriend They went away for the long weekend, so you're safe." 

 

Ben hummed happily, linking his hands together behind her. "It's just us now?" 

 

"Just us," she nodded. 

 

"Good." 

 

“Where’s your bedroom?”

 

Rey inclined her chin to a narrow hallway off the living room. Ben picked her up, Rey hugging him with her arms and legs as he carried her to her room.

 

He set her down on her twin, wondering how exactly this was going to work. Ben was by no means an average sized man and it couldn’t have been more apparent than in that moment as he studied the dimensions.

 

“Maybe the couch?” Rey suggested.

 

With a nod, he lifted her up and returned them to the larger room. He sat down, bringing her with him so she was straddling his waist.

 

Her hands trailed down his chest, fingers skimming over the wool of his sweater until they reached the closure of his pants.

 

Ben noticed Rey seemed more confident, the way she’d been in the bar the previous night. Perhaps it was because she was on her own turf again or maybe it had to do with the fact he’d managed to quell her fears about being left behind. Either way, he was glad to see her beaming up at him with the same light shining in her eyes.

 

“Do you want to unwrap me?” she asked with a giggle, blushing at her own joke.

 

“Yes,” he answered, kissing her.

 

He peeled her cream sweater off, revealing smooth tan skin without a single blemish other than a few freckles the same color as those on her face. Her breasts were held up by a snowflake lace bra with candy cane red trim underneath.

 

Ben glanced up at her quizzically. “Did you wear this for me?” Rey bit her lip but gave a slight nod. “Beautiful,” he breathed, placing his hands on her lower back to pull her to him.

 

His lips went to the tops of her breasts, kissing a line from one to the other, while his hands massaged slow circles into her back and hips. Rey’s fingers crossed through his hair, her head falling back as she let out a little gasp of pleasure.

 

Hearing her was better than any dream and Ben wanted to continue to be the reason for her making such sounds.

 

His hands crept up her back, fingers working the closure of her bra undone. The bra fell to the floor, revealing the soft supple curves of her chest. Ben let out a huff as he saw her, cataloging the lazy line of freckles that trailed diagonally down from her collarbone to a final dot between her breasts. He kissed it and Rey hummed. 

 

"You're overdressed," she remarked, arching a brow at him. Lifting his arms, Ben was pleased when she ripped his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind the couch. "Better." 

 

Rey’s hands settled on his shoulder blades, steadying herself as she rose up on her knees and began rolling her leggings down. Ben forgot how to breathe when he saw the matching thong she had on underneath.

 

“This is the best present I ever got,” he grinned.

 

He helped her shuck off her bottoms, which quickly led to her divesting him of the rest of his clothes and then they were both bare to own another.

 

Ben went red as he realized he was missing a critical component for their plans. “Uh, I don’t have any-.”

 

“I have an IUD and I’m clean. I haven’t...it’s been a while,” she admitted sheepishly.

  
“Me too,” Ben breathed a sigh of relief.

 

Rey gripped him in her hand, slowly lowering herself onto his shaft inch by inch. Ben clenched his jaw, forcing himself to breath evenly through his nostrils. The feel of her wrapping around him, so delectably right and warm, was enough to make him come undone.

 

“Ben,” Rey rolled her hips a little.

 

He clamped his hands down on her hips, stilling her. “One sec,” he said hoarsely.

 

Rey threaded her fingers in his hair, tenderly stroking through his tresses. Ben inhaled deeply, simply savoring the sensation, allowing it to calm him enough so they could continue.

 

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

 

She kissed him gently. “Ready, big guy?”

 

Ben didn’t bother to reply. He bucked up into her, keeping her held down on his lap as he did. Rey’s cry of surprise was drowned out by a moan of pleasure. Ben repeated the action again and again.

 

Rey resumed her earlier position holding onto his shoulders, while he lost himself to the feel of her. Her touch so inviting and welcoming, as if he was coming home.

 

It had been far too long since he’d been with a woman, but it was clear no one would ever feel the way Rey did. She stretched around him deliciously.

 

“You feel so good,” Ben growled as he devoured her keens in a hungry kiss.

 

Rey had been rendered incapable of replying, which only furthered Ben’s need to prove he wanted her — all of her. His pace increased, rutting up into her without abandon until they were both clinging to each other so tightly it was nearly impossible to breath.

 

“So close,” Rey gasped, her nails digging into his back.

 

Ben managed to slide his hand to where they were connected. He traced her clit teasingly, before applying more pressure.

 

The ministrations sent Rey convulsing around him and they both cried out as their combined orgasms hit.

 

Rey collapsed onto his chest, her head resting in the crook of his neck.

  
Once he could feel his legs, Ben gathered her up and carried her back to her bedroom. Wrapping himself around her, he covered them both up. Rey was asleep in his arms before he was able to tuck them in.

 

Ben laid watching her chest rise and fall with each breath and two two things became clear to him.

 

One, he needed to call Snoke.

 

And two, he was going to marry this girl.

 

* * *

 

**Three Years Later…**

 

As it turned out, Mr. Snoke did not approve Ben’s request to use his accumulated eleven weeks of paid time off. Furthermore, given Ben’s last-minute decision to fly home for the holidays and take off work, Mr. Snoke filed a grievance against him with the First Order’s HR department. Ben fought against it.

 

Using all his legal training, he proved his time was owed to him and communicated that he’d accept a pay out for the unused hours, if he wasn't permitted to take them. Enraged, Snoke fired him. With his tenure that meant Ben received one full year of severance pay as well as all his unused time off. So in the end, he received sixty-three weeks in total, which was more than enough time for him to move back to Boston and start working on his novel.

 

 _All Roads Lead Home_ was a coming of age tale set in his hometown of Boston, featuring a colorful cast of characters, including a show-off of a bartender and a brooding writer who had lost his muse. He’d found a publisher a few months after finishing his manuscript and the book was set to publish after the new year. Currently Ben was in talks with Netflix and HBO to pick it up as a mini-series. The royalties alone would sustain him for a few years.

 

And it was all thanks to his real-life muse, Rey.

 

She’d been more than his muse over the last few years, she’d been his rock. Between running her business and picking up extra shifts at Maz’s Tavern here and there, Rey managed to serve as his sounding board when he tried to describe a particularly difficult scene and offered up suggestions when he struggled with how to put his thoughts down. In her spare time, she proofread for him, pouring over print-outs with a red pen and jotting down notes and suggestions from her perspective as a reader.

 

Sometimes he’d find her slumped over on the couch, his latest chapter in her grease-stained hands. She was just as adorable as the first night he’d met her.

 

They’d moved in together after he’d been fired from First Order industries. The apartment over Millennium wasn’t as posh as his penthouse had been in LA, but it was Rey’s and that made it home. She decorated the windowsills with plants and always had tea in the cabinets. She continued with her bad habits like singing in the shower and drinking from the milk carton and Ben loved her all the more for it.

 

Which was why he was proposing after dinner tonight.

 

Last week, he’d told Rey he was meeting with Gwenyth Phasma of Supremacy Publishing to go over his book tour schedule, when in actuality, he’d gone to meet with his parents. He’d asked his mother for his grandmother Padme’s ring, knowing Rey would appreciate the antique more than any fancy modern interpretation. Leia already had it waiting when he arrived.

 

“I knew it was just a matter of time,” she said. “I knew the moment I saw you two that first Christmas.” She pulled him into a hug and Ben knew this was the proudest his mother had ever been of him.

 

Three years ago, Rey Niima had walked into his life offering him a Christmas wish. This year, it was his turn to make her wish come true. He was going to give her the family she’d always wanted, starting with him as her husband. Rey had stolen his heart the moment she entered his life. All Ben wanted was to steal her breath when she saw the ring and know she’d never be alone again.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you're interested, Rey's Christmas Cosmo and Ben's Winter Spiced Old Fashioned are real drinks. You can find them here:  
> \- [Christmas Cosmo](https://www.goodhousekeeping.com/food-recipes/a14520/christmas-cosmos-recipe-ghk1213/)  
> \- [Winter Spiced Old Fashioned](http://www.spoonforkbacon.com/2012/01/winter-spiced-old-fashioned/)
> 
> Also, my inspiration for Padme's ring is [this](https://www.etsy.com/listing/614165385/engagement-ring-vintage-pear-shaped-rose?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=antique+engagement+ring&ref=sc_gallery-1-4&plkey=1d4342b4c924941c97acb6f56809ff92c65e52ef%3A614165385&pro=1&frs=1).
> 
> Merry Reylo-mas!


End file.
